Memories of the Past
by call-me-reggie
Summary: Katniss and Peeta's eleven-year-old daughter, Paisley, tries to discover more about her parents' experience in the Hunger Games.
1. The Special Room

"_Deep in the meadow, under the willow _

_A bed of grass, a soft green pillow_

_Lay your head, and close your sleepy eyes _

_And when again they open, the sun will rise _

_Here it`s safe, here it`s warm _

_Here the daisies guard you from every harm_

_Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true_

_Here is the place where I love you," _

Mother kisses my brother's forehead and tiptoes out of our room, without glancing at me. She thinks I'm sleeping. But how can I sleep with what my teacher taught our class today.

"_The Hunger Games," she told us, "The Capitol once forced each district to send one boy and one girl as tribute to their killing games. There, the tributes would have to fight to the death. The last person standing wins." _

My mother explained the reason of the Hunger Games to me. She told me that my father and her changed things forever by causing the rebellion. She also said I used to have an aunt. But then her voice would crack and she'd stare at the ceiling with glittering eyes. She tells me that she'll tell Dickon about her past when the times right. But I'm not exactly sure when that is.

I glance over at Dickon, my seven-year-old brother, who's fast asleep in his bed. Mother says that I have her hair and my Father's eyes. She says sometimes it hurts to look at me because I remind her so much of the aunt I never met.

Dickon looks more like Father and my Grandma. My mother's mother is a fragile, nimble-fingered woman who accepts everyone with open arms. While she twists my hair into a braid, she'd sing a song in a melancholy voice.

"_Are you, are you, coming to the tree  
>Wear a necklace of rope, <em>_side by side__ with me.  
>Strange things did happen here<br>No stranger would it be  
>If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree<em>_,"_

The thought of her singing makes me shiver. I sit up in my bed and glance over at Dickon one last time; he's still sound asleep. Suddenly, I hear a purr.

Our old cat, Buttercup, leaps into my bed and nuzzles my arm. I stroke her fur softly and she purrs again. Buttercup hates my Mother; she hisses and refuses to eat the food she offers. But she likes me, and I like her. My Father laughs, saying that Buttercup was the only pet living in District 13's underground settlement, but then my Mother would glare at him and he'd be quiet.

I carefully slide out of bed and tiptoe into my hallway. My house is dark and mostly quiet, but I can hear my parents talking downstairs. My Father is laughing and the smell of burnt bread wafts through the halls. My Mother is scolding him, but I can hear the love in her voice.

"Peeta!" she cries, "You're the boy _with _the bread! Not the boy who _burns _the bread!"

I giggle softly and creep into my mother's special room. Shutting the door behind me, I pull on the cord that can fill the room with light. A quiver of arrows hangs from a peg in the wall and a wooden bow dangles beside it. I pad over to the big white wardrobe in the corner of the room, and swing the two doors open.

Inside, several dresses hang, clean and unworn. I've never seen Mother wear them, and I'm not sure why she has them, especially here in her special room. I think she wore them when she was younger, but other than weddings, what cause do we have to dress up fancily in District 12? I touch the silk of one of her dresses. The dress—one that I've wanted to try on since I've seen it—was embroidered with gems of different colors. When I turn the fabric towards the light, it shines and flashes, reminding me of a flame of fire.

All of a sudden, the door swings open and my Mother comes inside. She stares at me uncomprehendingly at first then her face turns scolding.

"Paisley!" she says. I can hear my Father come up behind her.

"Katniss, what's wrong—oh," my Father sees me and his voice becomes understanding. He puts an arm around my Mother's waist.

"Katniss, did you really think she wouldn't be curious? Do you really think she's never seen what inside of here? When you distinctly say _'this room is special, no going inside' _it's practically an invitation to go inside!"

"Paisley," Mother says to me, "How many times do you come here?"

"Almost every night," I admit.

"Why?" my Father asks hesitantly.

"Because nothing makes sense to me," I explain. "I've been told the Hunger Games were terrible and frightening. But you met Father there, and these dresses! I've never even seen you wear them! They're beautiful! And you have weapons in here! You tell me never to touch weapons if I ever see any! There are bows and quivers of arrows hanging on the wall, Mother! I don't know what's going on! You have to explain to me what happened, nothing makes sense—"

"Paisley," Mother interrupts, and then she looks at Father.

"Peeta, I think she's ready." She says to him. He nods.

Mother walks to the bookshelf and pulls a box from the top shelf, which I'd never been able to reach. "It's time to watch the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games."

The next morning, Mother tells me about the most important people of her youth. Firstly, her sister, the aunt I've never met, Primrose, who she had volunteered in place of when she had gotten reaped to be tribute for the Hunger Games. She had died of a bomb in the Capitol. Secondly, a man named Gale, she says that they were best friends and that they're fathers died in the same mine explosion. She explains that they used to hunt with bows and arrows together, but now he's living in District 2. And then, of course there's my Father, who had given her a loaf of bread as a child, against his mother's wishes. That makes me understand why she sometimes calls him 'the boy with the bread'.

I'd been up the whole night, watching the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games with my Mother. I cry a few times because of a dark skinned girl my Mother sings to before she dies. Then I realize she was singing the same song she sings to us so often.

"_Deep in the meadow, under the willow _

_A bed of grass, a soft green pillow_

_Lay your head, and close you sleepy eyes _

_And when again they open, the sun will rise _

_Here it`s safe, here it`s warm _

_Here the daisies guard you from every harm_

_Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true_

_Here is the place where I love you," _

**_I thought the name Paisley was a sweet, gentle name that reminded me of Primrose's innocence. Dickon, well, i have no idea where that came from. Review! -aphroditesgurl_**


	2. Uncle Abernathy

"I wanna come with Paisley!" I hear Dickon shout behind me. I ignore him and saunter out the door, into the spring air. Everything smells good during the spring.

Mother woke this morning, saying that my uncle called on the telephone and that he's going crazy. She says he's momentarily sober. Her and Father laughed, then she sent me with a bottle of liquor, to my uncle's house.

Uncle Haymitch isn't really my uncle. Mother told me that he mentored Father and herself in the Hunger Games. I don't really like Uncle Haymitch that much. He always smells like alcohol and he tends to swear a lot. The first time I met him, he almost threw up on me, but Father pulled me away quickly. I was seven-years-old and Dickon was three. Four years later, I still remember my Father covered in vomit.

I stomp up the steps to my uncle's house and throw open the unlocked door. Hesitantly, I peer inside. "Yuck," I mutter. Old, empty glass bottles litter the ground and out of nowhere, I see a beetle crawl across the floor. The smell inside the house is unbearable, so I breathe through my mouth. My uncle is slumped on a chair at the kitchen table, unconscious. Mother tells me to wake up Uncle Haymitch from a distance because he sleeps with a knife in one hand. I'm not sure why exactly, because the stench of the house itself would scare people away.

I set the bottle of liquor on the kitchen counter and look around, curiously. Beside the sink sits the only thing that can be called even remotely beautiful in the house; a vase filled with water and one dead rose. I skip over to the vase and pull out of the flower. With a shaking hand, I prepare to douse my uncle in water.

But instead of _just_ dousing him in water, I mistakenly whip the vase at him too. I cover my own mouth in shock as he furiously awakens, slicing the air in front of him. Then he sees me. He takes a step forward and at first I think he's about to skewer me, but then he chuckles.

"So, Katniss sends her daughter with the alcohol!" he cries out, clutching his stomach. I wrinkle my nose at him.

"Mother says she's feeling generous," I announce.

"Pfft, generous my haunch," he chortles and grabs the liquor from the counter. "Wanna sit?" he offers, going back to his seat at the kitchen table.

I cautiously walk up to the other chair and sit down.

"So, how's my little Posy doing?" he asks.

"My name is _Paisley_, Uncle Haymitch, and I'm alright."

"Learn anything worth telling at school?"

"Not really, but Mother and I watched the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games last night."

Haymitch pauses, his eyes widening. "She—let—you watch it?"

"Yes," I admit, "Today she's going to show me all the stuff in her special room. Did you know she has weapons, Uncle Haymitch?"

"Yeah,"

"Do you know about those _beautiful _dresses?"

"Yup,"

"Does she really know how to shoot people with arrows?"

"She's the finest archer I know."

I press my head against the kitchen table. "Why doesn't anybody tell me!" I shout. I can feel warm tears running down my cheeks. Uncle Haymitch pats me head uncomfortably.

"Hey, don't cry, kid," He mutters.

"Everyone has been keeping secrets from me," I weep, then my eyes widen, "Have you been keeping secrets from me too?"

"For your own good," he admits.

I wipe the tears from my cheek and stand up. "Enjoy your alcohol, Uncle Haymitch, I'm going to go find out more secrets," I say shakily.

"Good luck, kiddo," he whispers before I shut the door to his house.

**_That's the second chapter for you. Uncle Haymitch, wow that sounds weird. Anyways, review! - aphroditesgurl_**


	3. Just Like The Mockingjay

It's all so different. Here in the woods, behind the fence that blocks it out from the world, it's quiet and green. The only sounds you can hear are the birds chirping and the occasional rustle of tree branches. My mother and I sit with our feet in the pond, leisurely pulling out Katniss tubes, that her father named her after. My mother sings a four-note tune and a bird echoes it back. A mockingjay.

I feel safe in the woods, even though I probably shouldn't. There are wild dogs, poisonous plants and possibly poisonous insects wandering around. But I don't even feel this safe at home.

"I hunted here with Gale," Mother whispers.

Curiosity tingles through me as she brings up the man's name again.

"Tell me more about him, about Gale." I say.

Mother lies down on her back, with her hands tucked under her head.

"Gale Hawthorne," she starts, "Was my best friend. I met him here, in the woods. His family still lives here in District 12, you know Posy and Rory don't you?"

"Oh yes! Posy always says hello to me when I she sees me around town. I didn't know that she's related to Gale."

"Yeah, but Gale is in District 2 now, he's a TV broadcaster of something," Mother's tone surprises me. I'm suspicious to why she's talking about her 'best friend' in such a bitter voice.

"He never said goodbye." She whispers.

I stare at the lake, my teeth grit together when a thought comes to mind.

"Did you love him? Before you met Father?"

Mother smiles sadly. "Gale said he loved me, but then he left. Your Father has always been here. He's saved me more times then I can count."

"In the Hunger Games?" I wonder.

"Every day he saved me, and he still does. He's my sense of security."

"That's so romantic! I can't wait till I have a boyfriend," I say, then cover my hands over my mouth, staring at her nervously.

Mother bursts out laughing. "Don't tell that to your Father!"

"You wouldn't tell him, would you?" I panic.

"No, your secret is safe with me."

Mother smiles at me and I smile back. The woods fills with the four-note tune that she sang. Mockingjays whistle and chirp from almost every tree. I splash my feet around in the water, as I try to get the guts to ask Mother about someone else.

"What about Primrose?"

Mother sighs like she'd been waiting for that question to pop up.

"Prim was my little sister. She looks so much like you. I loved her. What else is there to say?"

I get the feeling that Primrose is a hard subject for my Mother to talk about, so I change the topic.

"Mother, will you teach me how to shoot?"

My Mother stares at me for a long time, her face devoid of any emotions.

"You want to learn—archery?"

"Not just me," I explain, "Some children from school. Their parents tell them about you, about your bow and arrows. They want to learn too."

"Why?"

"They idolize you. They think you're amazing, and once, my friend saw you and she said 'That's the woman who saved Panem!' and I said 'Yup, that's my Mother!'"

Mother beams at me graciously, and then her face becomes smug.

"Do _you _idolize me?"

"I want to be just like you."

"Just like me, how?"

"I want to be a mockingjay, too."

Mother looks at me seriously. "You don't know what you're asking for."

"Yes I do," I argue, "You started the rebellion, you saved everyone."

"You want to create another rebellion?" Mother demands.

"I want to create hope."

Mother looks taken aback for a moment. Then she kisses my forehead.

"Come on then, my little mockingjay. Let's go create some hope."

_**Fini.**_

**_Yeah, i'm all for happy endings and stuff like that. What are you? A Gale's girl or Peeta's girl? Review, please! - aphroditesgurl _**


End file.
